


waste this night away with me

by MamshieHelp



Series: teddy bears and bullet shells [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Russian Mafia, brief mentions of violence, like jebuz, mafia!au, nothing but fluff, pure fluff, this is overflowing with fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-16 19:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13642722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamshieHelp/pseuds/MamshieHelp
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is deadly, dangerous, beautiful. Blades gleam beautifully against his pearly white skin, blue eyes sharp like a wolf on the hunt, dark suits and ebony guns making silver hair look like a map of constellations on the night sky. He’s ruthless, fearless, deadly deadly deadly-Meanwhile, Yuuri Katsuki braids flowers into his hair and kisses him on the nose and lets Viktor pull him close to his chest and-(Or: mean and scary Pakhan Viktor Nikiforov spends the night with his husband being publicly affectionate and eating street food)





	waste this night away with me

Yuuri... can’t really blame people being afraid of his husband.

 

Without context, Viktor Nikiforov is one big guy; tall, broad, yet lithe, all long limbs and chiseled jaw. Not _too_ big, though. The proportion of his body, the lean lines of his entirety, is surprisingly aesthetically pleasing. Nonetheless, something about him, something about his _aura_ , makes you want to bow down to him and submit. His voice is soft, deep, terrifyingly calming, demanding and straightforward. Meeting him firsthand doesn’t really make you fear him; it just kind of leaves you... in awe. He’s all polite smiles, perfect posture, and a picture perfect representation of grace. Cross him wrongly, disrespect him or anything he holds dear, or just generally piss him off, and you are better off dead.

 

With context, there is a good reason to fear him. _Many_ good reasons. _Too_ many good reasons. The fact that he’s the Bratva’s Pakhan doesn’t even amount to that yet. His hands are strong, fingers quick, brain quicker, and morality ruthless. He’s been trained to lead the dark and grim life he’s always been destined to live, and in comes the consequences. Viktor Nikiforov is deadly, dangerous, _beautiful_. Blades gleam beautifully against his pearly white skin, blue eyes sharp like a wolf on the hunt, dark suits and ebony guns making silver hair look like a map of constellations on the night sky. He’s ruthless, fearless, deadly deadly deadly-

 

Meanwhile, Yuuri Katsuki braids flowers into his hair and kisses him on the nose and lets Viktor pull him close to his chest and-

 

“Yuuri, you’re nearly shivering! I _knew_ we should’ve brought that other coat-“

 

Yuuri pushes a gloved finger against his husband’s lips, nearly smiling at the playful scowl on his face. The busy street around them bustled, animated, unknowing of who the two were, Despite the populated street, it was like it’s just the two of them. It’s perfect. With Viktor, it’s always perfect.

 

(Sure, call him cheesy.)

 

“I’m a big boy. I can take a little cold. Now come on, the food cart is nearby.” He squeezes the hand in his before walking forward, tugging the still pouting Pakhan.

 

“I still don’t get why you dragged us out here just for some street food. I could order you hundreds of high premium _blinis_ in a flash.” Viktor huffs, Yuuri could still hear the pout in his voice.

 

“It’s part of the experience, Vitya. Mila says the ones in this food cart are the absolute _best_. Plus,” He looks back at Viktor for a moment, eyes shining, soft and innocent smile on his face. “I’ve been meaning to drag you out for some time now. It’s nice to have you all to myself.”

 

Viktor’s heart lurches, the blush creeping on his cheeks already amounting to the current flush he has due to the cold. Fucking hell, they’ve been married for _two and a half years now_ , yet he feels like a petulant teenager. “ _Solnyshko,_ you have me all to yourself for the rest of our goddamn lives.”

 

“Well I hope so, because there seems to be a line.”

 

They get in line, and it was less daunting than Viktor had thought. He was a patient man, but he loathed lines. But Yuuri was here, and being with the Japanese man made everything easier, lighter.

 

They chatted, talked, huddled together close when strong breezes hit. Yuuri shivers once, and Viktor envelops him in his expensive, maroon Burberry coat. Except Viktor’s still wearing it, so they look like some weird expensive hybrid trying to keep warm. Bitter singles roll their eyes, a nearby elderly couple smile fondly. Yuuri protests at first, but Viktor smirks when Yuuri huddles closer into his warmth.

 

They get the _blinis_ , Yuuri pays.

 

“You keep buying me things and spoiling me. Let me buy you a goddamn _blini_.”

 

“But I _like_ spoiling you-“

 

Yuuri shoves the pastry into Viktor’s mouth, and his protests die when they finally start eating.

 

They walk hand in hand further down the plaza, the evening night illuminated by lamp posts and music, people chatting by fountains and by boutiques, kids being chased by parents and couples making out in outdoor restaurants. Viktor relays him a story about one of the trainees earlier that day, poor lad nearly shot himself with his own gun. Yuuri snickers a little before biting into his own _blini_.

 

They wander to a more desolate part of the plaza, with nobody around except for a retreating janitor and an unused fountain. The snow falls into their lashes, fingers never letting go of the other, Yuuri lets Viktor take a bite out of his food, the happy twinkle in his husband’s eyes is everything to Yuuri.

 

There’s this standard elevator music playing over the speakers surrounding the vicinity, but it’s surprisingly classy. Like an orchestra. Viktor hums, twirling Yuuri around slowly, the snow under their boots crunch. Yuuri shivers once more, and Viktor doesn’t hesitate to pull Yuuri to his chest, wrapping him up in his coat, never ever letting go.

 

Yuuri hums contentedly into Viktor’s chest, and he looks up at him, arms circling Viktor’s middle, eyes wide and... searching. Yuuri doesn’t even notice when he touches the outline of Viktor’s gun underneath his clothes, encircling his back tenderly. Viktor pushes Yuuri’s hair back from his eyes, planting the most tender of kisses on his forehead.

 

“You’re thinking about something again.” Viktor murmurs, filled with unending tenderness and love, it’s enough to make him _burst_.

 

Yuuri pouts a little, breathing in the fabricon of Viktor’s sweater. He’d have to snatch it later, it smells so _good_ and Viktor’s clothes dwarf him in the best of ways. Plus, he knows how it affects the man. It drives him _wild_. “Remember that blond guy you cornered during that banquet last month?”

 

Huh. He’d nearly forgotten about it. Some traitor from a complement group. Anyways, he’s dead now. It doesn’t matter. “Yes? Why?” It’s nice to know why Yuuri remembers _that_ , of all occasions.

 

“I... I don’t know, really,” Yuuri shrugs, blinking. He looks up, through fluffy charcoal lashes. “But I remember how _terrified_ he looked, Vitya. He was so _sheet white._ He was tanned too. You _literally_ scared the tan out of a person. Wow.”

 

Viktor chuckles, raising an eyebrow, carding a soothing hand through Yuuri’s hair. “Yes. And?”

 

Yuuri sighs. “Sometimes I wonder how you do it. How you make people fear you so easily. But you _know_ you go by the ‘respect over fear’ thing, but even the people who respect you fear you. I’m jealous sometimes.”

 

Viktor bites his lip, smiling. “People fear you enough.”

 

“People still think I faint at the sight of blood.”

 

“A major misunderstanding that is.” Viktor licks his lips at the memory, a blood stain on Yuuri’s cheek as his not-so-innocent Yuuri shoots someone dead without even blinking. How beautiful. How perfect. He loves this man.

 

Yuuri sighs. “You think if they saw you like this, the way you act around me, would they still fear you?”

 

Viktor hums, pursing his lips. He pulls Yuuri closer, impossibly closer.

 

“I wouldn’t care.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> they so cute sdjnmnkfjdjkjjndsjndbbmb
> 
> feedback is always appreciated! lemme know if you guys wanna continue this series! i fucken love cuddly and fluffy mafia aus so much djkfdfkbdbjf and leave some suggestions and prompts in as well!


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